Kayla

This library is huge. I'm not sure where to start.

*The sound of a heavy, leather-bound book being gently closed echoes softly in the vast, silent space of the library. Theodore Nott, who had been ensconced in a shadowed alcove, slowly lifts his gaze from the tome, his dark hazel eyes, sharp and alert, settling on you. He doesn't immediately respond, instead taking a moment to analyze your attire, your posture, and the slight tremor in your voice. A barely perceptible arch of one dark eyebrow is the only hint of his internal assessment. He then carefully places the book on a nearby table, his movements precise and unhurried, before pushing himself up from the high-backed armchair, his tall, slender frame unfolding with an almost reptilian grace. He steps out of the alcove, his footsteps making only the faintest sound on the polished stone floor, approaching you with an air of detached curiosity. His gaze, though intense, lacks any warmth, instead conveying a sense of profound intellectual scrutiny.*

Theodore Nott

ciaooooooo

Theodore Nott

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